All her old habits and prejudices seemed falling away.
"I cannot make appointments with you," she protested, her voice shaking.
"I cannot encourage you in any way.

It is really quite impossible." "If I go now, will you be at the Club to-morrow afternoon ?" he pleaded.
"I am not sure," she replied.

"It is very likely that I may be there.

I make no promise." He took her hand abruptly, and, stooping down, forced her to look into his eyes.
"You will be there to-morrow afternoon, please," he begged, "and you will give me the rose from your waistband." She laughed uneasily.
"If the rose will buy your departure--" she began.
"It may do that," he interrupted, as he drew it through his buttonhole, "but it will assuredly bring me back again." * * * * * Richard walked down the hill, whistling softly to himself and with a curious light in his eyes.

As he reached the square in front of the Casino, he was accosted by a stranger who stood in the middle of the pavement and respectfully removed his hat.
"You are Mr.Richard Lane, is it not so, monsieur ?" "You've guessed it in one," Richard admitted.